Coincidentally Kismet

19. Will

CHAPTER 19

WILL

“LOVE YOU AGAIN” - CHASE MATTHEW

W hy did I suggest going to the beach? Oh yeah, because it’s all I’ve wanted to do on my day off for weeks. And yet, it was an incredibly stupid idea. The worst possible idea in the history of all ideas because we invited the girls. Cam in a bikini...well, that just might be the best thing I’ve ever seen. Frankly, her body has changed since we were last together. Gone is the girl from my youth and firmly in her place is a curvy, luscious woman.

Seeing Cam strut down to the water with most of her perfectly round, delectably plump backside hanging out made me forget my own name. All the blood instantly rushed from my head down south, and I acted without thinking. Playing with her in the water was nonnegotiable, a must-have, at the time. Her body was like a homing beacon drawing me in, I was powerless to resist her. I held her in my arms as the water gently rocked us back and forth, lost in the flowery smell of her lotion mixed with the coconut shampoo she must use and the salty ocean air. Someone should bottle that scent and sell it, it would fly off the shelves. Cam felt amazing in my arms, she fit perfectly against my body. I savored every second of having her there until, embarrassingly, my body reacted in a visceral way. Leave it to my stupid brain to take over. As frustrating as it is, I had to put her down and remove myself before I did something impulsive like kiss her.

I can’t though, the mere thought of crossing the line with her sends me spiraling. She’s everything I’ve ever imagined in a partner. She’s kind, funny, smart. She has no problem giving me shit—hell, she riles me up more than the guys. But, I absolutely can’t cross that line.

Lucky for me, working to avoid kissing, or any of the other hundred things I’d love to do to her, isn’t over today. When I asked Smith to do the beach thing, of course he took it to the next level, convincing me to rent a little place on the Intracoastal so we could take full advantage of the bar scene. Staying down here didn’t save me money, an Uber would’ve been far cheaper. Unnervingly, he convinced me with just two words—Drunk Staycation!

I’m hopeless.

I rented a bungalow equipped with three small bedrooms, two bathrooms, a tiny galley-style kitchen, and a living room. The garage was converted into a game room, with a pool table and darts. There’s also a hot tub outside, which I would love to use but have decided to strictly avoid in order to keep myself safely in the friend zone.

Butler and Ruiz have one room claimed, Smith and Lo will take another, and Cam is getting a bedroom as well, which leaves Amy and me relegated to the living room. I plan to give Amy the couch, and I’ll sleep on my military-issued cot, which is essentially a one-inch pad that inflates and provides minimal cushion to the floor. I’ve slept on worse though.

“Hey, pizza’s here!” Smith shouts.

My stomach growls in response. I didn’t eat much all day and desperately need to tear into something before heading to the bars. Keeping myself in check around Cam requires not being overcome with alcohol. The three bulk-store bottles of liquor waiting on the counter mock me, and I know my attempt is likely futile. The guys dig in while lazily looking around, wondering what our lady counterparts are up to. If I had to guess, there’s a flurry of hairspray and makeup flying around in the master bathroom as they prepare to head out. Amy begged Cam to style her hair. Of course, she didn’t say no. It’s her day off, but she would never turn down a friend in need. I’m positive Cam’s elbow deep in some sort of fancy-curling-iron-meets-aerosol-can debacle.

We eat about three quarters of the pizza before deciding we better leave some for them, or we’re going to have tears and throw up to deal with later. I realize they’re all grown women and can handle themselves, but I’ve also seen what happens when too much tequila goes down without food. Hell, I’ve had a moment or two myself, crying to Don Julio about my problems.

Making quick work of it, I shower, change, and head back out to the living room, where still no signs of life from the girls can be found. Did they all pass out from fumes?

I settle into the couch, knowing that this may be the only reprieve I get for the rest of the night. Going out will be fun. I’m genuinely looking forward to some downtime with my buddies and a change of pace from our usual haunts. The bathroom door swings open crashing into the wall, flooding the entire house with lady smells a thud so loud I’m worried I may not get my deposit back. There’s hairspray, obviously, mixed with perfume, and something else I can’t put my finger on.

Exchanging looks with Butler, I slowly turn around to see Cam, Lo, and Amy tumbling out in a fit of giggles. It’s contagious, the laughter and joy on Lo’s and Amy’s faces makes me chuckle to myself. Clearly, whatever they were doing in there was far more fun than what’s been happening out here.

Amy sashays down the hallway first, wearing a black skirt that’s too tight and too short with a purplish sequin crop top. Her outfit is way too provocative, and my big brother instincts are on high alert, causing me to scowl at her and raise an eyebrow dangerously close to my hairline. She notices me glowering and gives me a look while flipping me the bird. That settles that. I’m not allowed to comment on how my sister is dressing, apparently.

Lo follows after her with a skintight black dress on and heels that accentuate her smooth, defined legs. Not that I’m checking her out, it’s just facts. Smith looks like he could bite off his tongue as sweat begins to bead on his forehead. He is so screwed or lucky—I’m not sure which, maybe both.

She looks us all dead in the eye, which should be impossible since we are spread out around the room, but she somehow manages and says, “Line up the tequila, boys!” A stifled cough rolls out of Smith as he saunters to the counter to obey her orders. Call the fire department, the man is toast.

Facing back to the hallway, waiting for Cam to appear, makes my stomach do those weird flip-flops. She’s the last one we’re waiting on, which makes sense since she likely helped the other two get ready. I take the shot Lo hands me graciously as she whispers, “Prepare yourself, she’s dressed to kill tonight.” Is Lo conspiring with me now to make a move? I hate to disappoint her, but it’s not going to happen.

Cam rushes out of the bathroom and down the hallway, apologizing that she took an extra three minutes longer than the others, and all I can do is stare. That’s so typical Cam, worried about inconveniencing others. It’s absurd and charming all at the same time. I’m paralyzed by the fire-engine-red dress Cam has poured herself into, leaving nothing to the imagination. It has one of those ties around her neck and pushes her cleavage up, offering a delectable view of her curves. Her legs are not exceptionally long, but the heels she’s wearing make them seem lengthy, sculpted, and tan. She’s still rocking that braid that looks like a headband, but her long blonde hair is wavy and hanging loose over her shoulders and back.

Cam heads to the kitchen, giving me a view of the back. My mouth is rapidly turning as dry as the Sahara. I swallow hard, trying to forcibly make my salivary glands work once more. The dress is so short that her ass is barely covered, and the back of it is completely open. Who the hell makes clothes like this? It should be illegal. She tosses back not one, not two, but three shots of tequila before sucking tenderly on a lime. My pants feel too tight, and I adjust myself discreetly before walking over to her.

“You, uh...you look good, Wright.” I stumble on my words, moving next to her at the counter.

“Not so bad yourself, Rambo.” She bumps her shoulder into mine, unleashing a chain reaction of tingles up my arm. “Although, this is getting a little long.” She ruffles my hair with her fingers, twirling to walk away.

“Maybe I’ll call Micah, get in for a fresh cut.” I grab her arm gently, rubbing the smooth skin on the inside of her wrist with my thumb.

“You could try, although...I’m not sure he gives as good a head rub as I do, Rambo.” With that she pulls away, walking toward Lo and heading out the front door. I groan. She isn’t going to make this easy on me at all.

The military has reformed some of their interrogation methods, ones that were deemed too harsh or inhumane for the treatment of our enemies. Things like waterboarding and other forms of torture are not used widely anymore, at least not according to the mainstream ideals of what goes on in interrogation rooms.

I won’t confirm or deny if those things still happen, just that we are trained to say they don’t. Where am I going with this? Well, call up Mr. President because I’ve just discovered the best way to get a heterosexual man to answer questions and bend to every demand: Cam in this damn red dress. Well, really her in anything, the way she commands a room without even trying is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. People gravitate toward her, and she welcomes them each with friendly conversation or open arms. It’s why I know she will be successful in her career, she’s got that magic aura about her. It’s why I know, no matter what I want deep down, I will never be deserving of her attention. I never have been.

We made our way through a couple of bars, having a drink and appetizer at the first. By the way, eating shrimp shouldn’t be sexy, but apparently it is. If I could get Cam to slurp something off of me the way she carefully lapped at the butter dripping off the crustaceans... Fuck, I’m hard again just thinking about it. Stop it, body, we aren’t going there.

We’re at the third bar on our crawl now, and it’s getting pretty late. The girls are all dancing to some not-so-good cover band like it’s the greatest concert they’ve ever been to. Fun is one word for what they’re having, but it has been supported by several shots of tequila.

Cam has been flirting with me all night—actually, she’s been flirting with everyone all night. She danced too closely with Butler at the last place. He apologized to me afterward, but I could tell it was equal parts awkward and hot for him. She even made a play at Ruiz, which was pretty funny, seeing how shy he is. He blushed for twenty minutes after she kissed him on the cheek and playfully called him her “Latin lover.”

I would be lying if I said the green-eyed monster hasn’t been sitting on my shoulder all night. Seeing Cam all over my friends made my stomach turn sour. I stopped drinking at the last bar, just so I could be coherent enough to make sure she didn’t end up in the wrong bed, and I didn’t end up in jail for killing one of my friends. I have no claim to this girl, but I can’t help feeling protective over her, like she’s mine even if she isn’t. She’s messing with me, because logically I know she doesn’t seriously want to be with either Butler or Ruiz.

“You gonna sit there and scowl all night, or you gonna do something about it?” Amy asks, putting her hands on my shoulders, gently kneading the knots that live there and breaking into my jealousy trip down pity lane.

“What am I supposed to do here?” I ask, rolling my eyes.

“Quit being afraid of everything that might go wrong and just let it happen, Will,” she responds, annoyed.

“Why are you mad at me, Aims?” I scoff. I didn’t do a damn thing wrong here.

“Let’s see...you’ve wanted another chance with her for years, and now she’s right here and you’re letting your head dictate what happens, not your heart. You don’t know how it will turn out, but you can’t protect her at the cost of your own happiness. You can sit here and say you’re afraid of losing her all you want, but that ship has sailed. Even though you’re just friends, if she walked out of your life right now, it would hurt just as much. So for the love of God, just go with it, see what happens.” She says all this with a vehemence that gives me chills, reminding me of our mom.

“Amy, stop. You don’t understand, and you never will.” I’m about to get up to take a walk, go to the bathroom, do something to clear my head, but a firm hand on my shoulder stops me.

“She’s not wrong. Thatch not being here broke you, buddy.” Smith’s voice is gruff. “I see it, fuck, we all see it. But here’s the thing that you keep failing to understand. He didn’t leave because of you, just like your dad didn’t leave because of you. They left for different reasons, but they both left because of their own issues. You didn’t cause any of it, and nothing you did or didn’t do would have changed it. Just like nothing you do, aside from maybe cheating, would be the reason she walks away, if she ever does.”

Smith moves in front of me, pushing the table back and out of the way so he can get right up in my face. “You aren’t the only one who lost a best friend that day, and do you want to know what the most fucked up part is...I lost two. You might be able to hide from everyone else, but you can’t hide from me. I’ve seen you in the bathroom wiping your mouth off when you throw up from the anxiety or the flashbacks. I’ve seen you go for a run at five in the morning because I’m up doing the same thing. He would want you to live, to soak up every moment you can while you can because he couldn’t. He would tell you that you’ve seen horrible shit and that nothing, not even fear is worth wasting a minute of your life because one day you are going to take that last breath and you don’t want to regret the shit you didn’t do.”

“Fine, fuck. I know you’re right, but...” I run my fingers through my hair. Can I do this? Should I do this? “She’s different. She’s the only one who’s ever seen all of me. I’m not the same as I was back then. If I was damaged then, I’m obliterated now,” I whisper to Smith, and Amy, since she’s now crowded into my space too.

“She doesn’t strike me as the type to walk away from damaged. She’s the human equivalent of duct tape, stick her on you and suddenly you’re all patched up. I mean fuck...I didn’t even know you knew how to flirt until she came around. Quit fighting it.”

“Fine...I’ll try, but you two are responsible if this backfires. And it’ll be your ass picking me up off the floor.” I point at Smith. I know he would be there for me a million times over.

“Deal, but Will, don’t take it too far...just enough to see if you still have something there. I don’t want either of you getting hurt,” Amy admonishes. What happened to throwing caution to the wind?

“Deal.” I smirk at my sister. She has no clue how strong the connection is and that I already know there is enough heat between Cam and me to start a forest fire the likes of which the modern world has never seen. Chemistry has never been our problem; it’s been emotions.

I’ve hurt Cam before, and I don’t want to lose another person, but maybe things will be different this time. Or maybe the alcohol is leading me down a path I shouldn’t take. But hey, wouldn’t be the first time, and torturing myself by not finding out sucks.